


Bad Timing

by calapine



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23417371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calapine/pseuds/calapine
Summary: A very serious fic about a very serious phonecall Martha gets on her honeymoon.
Relationships: Martha Jones/Thomas Milligan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Bad Timing

“Perfect: no medical emergencies, no aliens, no Torchwood, just you, me and miles of perfect sky and warm sand.” Tom swung his wife round in his arms and deposited her gently on a scattering of pillows. “Not to mention a rather large and comfortable bed.”

Martha stretched luxuriously, rolled over on her side, and smiled. “Sorry about the airport.”

Tom shrugged. “Heh, it’s not your fault if some aliens want to abandon their spaceship in the middle of a runway. Lucky you were there to take care of it.”

“Mm, I’m thinking of suggesting to UNIT that they set up an HQ out here.”

“Brilliant idea, Dr Jones.” He leaned down to kiss her.

Somewhere, a phone rang.

“Martha...” Tom sighed.

She glanced up to be confronted with a very pained look and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry...it’s just that phone...”

“It’s him then?”

Martha nodded. “He wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”

Tom sighed again, and sat back. “Go on then.”

Martha kissed him as lovingly and quickly as she could. “Have I mentioned how much I adore you?” she said as she jumped off the bed. She fished the mobile out of her bag and answered. “Doctor? What’s the problem?”

“Are you pregnant?” asked the Doctor, rather breathlessly.

Martha froze, then very slowly turned away from Tom, and lowered her voice. “What?” she hissed.

The Doctor spoke more slowly. “Are. You. Pregnant? With child? Bun in the oven? Knock-”

“Yes, Doctor, I get the idea, thanks, and no, I’m not.”

A pause. “Are you sure?”

Martha gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

“Maybe you should do a test. With one of those things you pee on and get a blue line, or don’t get a blue line. I can never remember. Do you have one those with you? That’s the sort of thing human women carry around, right?”

“Doctor-”

“I’ll just wait right here, if you like. No hurry.”

“Doctor, I am not pregnant, I do not have a pregnancy test, and I am most certainly not going to go and check that I’m not pregnant just to satisfy your curiosity. Do you know where I am?”

“Earth. I hope.”

“My honeymoon!”

“Martha?” Tom said, lounging rather gorgeously on the bed. “Everything alright?” 

She took a deep breath, looked back at him, and smiled. 

“Just fine,” she said, covering the mouthpiece with her hand. “I’ll only be a minute. Promise.” The walls weren’t exactly thick, so she walked right outside, onto the beach. A gorgeous sky, salty air, and the distant rumble of the sea was enough to restore her sense of equilibrium. She put the phone to her ear. “Doctor?”

“Yup, still here. Done the test?”

“No. Why on Earth do you want to know if I’m pregnant?”

“Because everybody else is!” His voice had reached a peculiarly high pitch, and Martha felt a growing sense of dread, imagining all sort of Midwich Cuckoo alien invasion scenarios for which she’d no doubt have to leave this glorious paradise to deal with. “Well,” went on the Doctor, “not everyone, exactly. No-one at all actually. But Sarah Jane’s got a kid, a whole pack of them really. And now Jack’s got a daughter. And a grandson!”

Martha pinched the bridge of her nose. “Right. Okay.”

There was a pause, then: “Is that all you can say? He’s a grandfather!”

“Well, he’s been around a long time. I suppose it was inevitable that given his, um, libido, there’d be a kid somewhere.”

“He won’t let me borrow her.”

“Why would you want to borrow her, Doctor?”

“To show her all the wonder of the universe, of course. And she looks a bit like my granddaughter.”

“Uh-huh. Look Doctor, you know you can’t go around ‘borrowing’ women who look a bit like your granddaughter, right?”

“Of course I do.”

Martha knew she was going to regret asking, but: “Please tell me you haven’t actually ‘borrowed’ anyone who looks like a relative of yours.”

“Certainly not! Well, almost never. Just the once. Maybe. From a certain point of view. There was one sort of accidental kidnapping, but that was ages ago.”

“Kidnapping!”

“Decades ago, centuries for me. Don’t worry about it, she had a lovely time.” There was a pause. “At least until that mind control incident. I think she might have been sectioned. Always meant to check, just incase I-”

“Doctor! Please. Look, what’s her name. I’ll check up on her.”

“Dodo. Dorothea Chaplet.” He sounded almost wistful. “I don’t think you’ll find her.”

“There’s no harm in checking. Now is there anything else you wanted, apart from having some sort of existential family crisis? I’ve got a brand new husband to get back to.”

“Oh, right. How was the wedding?” He made an odd sort of sniffling noise and Martha shook her head.

“You were there, Doctor.”

He brightened instantly: “I was? Brilliant! I knew you hadn’t forgotten about me, Martha Jones.”

“That would be rather difficult,” she muttered.

“Was it me? I mean, me me, this me.” She got the distinct impression that he was bouncing up and down.

“I wouldn’t want to disrupt the timeline,” she said.

“Ooh, go on, just a hint. What happened?”

“You almost ruined my wedding, that’s what happened, Doctor. My guests were not meant to be the appetisers!” She sounded more irritated than she intended. Obviously this Doctor hadn’t done anything. Yet. And she really really didn’t want to cause any sort of temporal paradox. Not on her honeymoon. “Look, all this chatting is really great, really...fun, but I’ve got to get back to my husband.”

“I didn’t interrupt you in the middle of sex, did I?”

Martha took a deep breath. “No,” she said, very calmly.

“Well, that’s good. And you’re using protection?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Martha?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“If you do happen to get pregnant-”

“Uh-huh.”

“Could I borrow it? Not right away obviously. I might lose a small human. When it’s older. Say, six, or sixteen. I’m very good with teenagers. They almost never die.”

“I’m hanging up now, Doctor.”

“Oh. Right. Enjoy your honeymoon sex!”

"Goodbye, Doctor." Martha hung up before he could get another word in, closed her eyes, and took a long, deep breath. Then she switched the mobile to voicemail.

"You okay?" asked Tom, joining her on the beach.

"Absolutely." 

He slipped his arms around her. “That bad, huh? What is it? Daleks? Sontarans?”

“The Doctor being weird. All sorted out though." She had a sudden, horrible image of the TARDIS materialising at the bottom of their and waking them in the middle of the night. 

"Hey, it's okay, I've got you," said Tom, wrapping her into a warm embrace. 

Martha closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. "All I want is a honeymoon full of blissful peace, quiet, and no UNIT, no Torchwood, and absolutely no doctors of any kind whatsoever. Apart from you. And me.”

"Sounds good to me."

She glanced down at the phone to see there was a new voicemail. Then she swore and threw the phone at the ocean. She smiled up at Tom. "Let's go back inside."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2009.


End file.
